


Hold Me Down

by Peristew



Category: Twilight (Movies), Twilight Series - Stephenie Meyer
Genre: F/M, angst filled
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-06-04
Updated: 2012-06-04
Packaged: 2017-11-06 20:10:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,428
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/422728
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Peristew/pseuds/Peristew
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Not me. That's who this girl is. She is not me. And for the first time, Edward wants someone who is not me. The tequila sits at the bottom of my stomach and begins to grow tentacles. I am tequila brave.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> Chapter One was beta'd by sweetishbubble and Angelz1114577 from Project Team Beta.

I pull on crimson skinnys and pair them with a charcoal tank top. Grabbing my ID and two cigarettes, I place one stick behind my right ear and the other between my lips. I pull on my cool-as-fuck sling-back heels, stuff my phone in my back pocket, and hightail it outta my apartment. I'm late. Like, really fucking late.

San Francisco in the spring is warm and dry, a welcomed change from the chilly fogginess and peek-a-boo sunlight that every other season alternates between. Tonight is cloudless. Just black sky.

My phone vibrates against my left ass cheek and my eyes roll. It's Jake. I don't even have to look at the damned thing to know. I don't bother to pick it up, but I do ask some guy leaning against the front of my building for a light. He obliges, a small nod of his scruffy chin before he flicks his lighter. I thank him and I'm back on track, my heels clicking against the sidewalk.

I scurry my way to my shitty car. She's seriously due to make her final drive to a scrap yard, but she's tenacious, sputtering to life when I'm on the verge of believing she won't.

Taking a long cigarette rip, I look around, scanning for any nosey eyes. Once I determine that no one is around, I reach inside my exhaust and pull out my car key.

It's Thursday. Thursday is a sacred night for my tight group of friends and me. We meet up every week and drink, laugh, and catch up. Tonight is a different kind of Thursday. Edward is bringing someone. It's different because bringing someone to hang out on a Thursday night means this someone really is someone.

I get to our spot in pretty good time. I stick my car key down my bra for safekeeping; I'm not a purse kind of girl.

The Dive Bar is our spot and has been for quite some time.

Walking through the door is difficult because entering the building means facing reality. So I pace it instead and encourage myself: I can do this. He does not have to make me crazy every time. I can be nice to his chick. I can be nice for him.

My phone vibrates again like a bothersome fly, buzzing at me.

"I'm out front," I say, knowing that it's Jake.

"Seriously, Bells?"

Jake's intolerant tone makes me anxious.

"Yeah, hey, can you come out here? Don't let folks know I'm here. Just, can you come out?" I stammer and bite on my thumbnail.

"Jesus… yeah, all right."

My arms fold and I nod my head as I give myself a mental pep talk.

You and Edward, you guys are just friends now. You have to get over it. Be cool tonight. Give him a shot at being happy. You fucking love him.

I pull at the top of my hair and convince myself that I can be who I need to be tonight.

I look up and see Jake walking out.

Jacob Black. One fourth of the team.

"Hey, thanks, you know?" I bite my lip and give him a small hug.

"Yeah. What's going on?" he asks, his hands digging into the front pockets of his jeans. He leans against the wall and stares at me with pulled brows.

"Oh, just flipping out, per usual…" I lick my lips and run a hand through my hair to busy myself "…how's she looking?"

Jake shrugs and looks up into the sky. His eyes wander around until he looks back at me.

"She looks… sweet, Bells. She looks really sweet."

I can't help but roll my eyes. I don't mean for it to be mean. It just happens.

"Let's go."

As we walk inside, I nudge Jake's arm with my shoulder because I'm a wuss and I'm scared. He looks down and smiles.

"Hey," he says in my ear "you got your boys."

He wraps an arm around my tight shoulders and leads the way.

I see him immediately; Edward Cullen with his green eyes that send electricity through me; a dense head of rust-colored hair, and that lovely crooked smile. He stands facing me, wearing a plain grey t-shirt and dark wash jeans. He meets my eyes and nods. I give him a small wave and put on a brave face.

Jasper is beside him and claps his hands as we approach.

"The fuck?" I ask.

"Oh, just applauding your fashionably late entrance."

He smirks and ruffles my hair. A chuckle slips from my lips, and I lightly punch his arm.

I look at Edward who stares down at me with a small smile. I move closer to him and reach my hand out to grasp the front of his shirt. His hand reaches out to me and lands on my waist.

"You're late," he says into my ear. He leans back to get a good look at me.

I nod yes then shake my head in apology.

"Yeah, shit, sorry."

He nods too and pulls me to him. My heart jumps and the idea of him letting go becomes an unwelcome inevitability. The smell of his cologne mixed with his natural scent and cigarette smoke remind me of better days. Intimate times. But as it is, the hug ends and we take a few steps away from each other.

"So, where is…"

I hope somebody will say her name for me.

"Kate's in the bathroom. Let's get you a drink," Jasper says as he puts an arm around me.

He leads me to the bar and I'm thankful.

"Is it a shot kind of night, Bells?" Jasper asks, his hand in the air to flag down the bartender.

"Yeah. Fuck yeah."

I nod whilst in search of the ladies room.

"She ain't got a whole lot on you, Bella," Jasper assures, aware of me scouting for the girl who got my guy.

"Yeah, yeah."

We take our shots and walk back to our spot. I lose my footing for a moment because there she is.

Adorable. Yeah, that's the word I'll use to describe her. She has a sweet little pout and hazel doll eyes. Her hair is adorable too: French braids around the front with the rest of it flowing loosely behind. Her outfit? Adorable. A casual strapless dress with flats. Oh, and a clutch resembling a bow.

I must be glaring daggers or something, because I feel Jasper tap me with his foot.

"Alrighty, folks! Drink up. I got first round, and it's a shot kind of a night my friends, because our Bell of the Ball has gotten us off to a late start," Jasper announces as he passes shots of tequila around.

Jake pulls out a seat for me, and I sit facing Edward and Kate. She looks wide-eyed at the shot in front of her and turns to Edward. I watch her as she eats his ear with her lips. I hate how he leans into her, his arm wrapping around her neck as he listens carefully.

He chuckles and flags a waiter down.

He orders a Coke for her. Kate laughs and rests her forehead on Edward's shoulder, embarrassed. He kisses her head. It's all so fucking sweet.

I feel Jake kick my chair, and I snap my head to him.

"Retract claws, kitty," he whispers. "You'd better get right, 'cause your heart is a neon sign on your sleeve, blinking and shit."

Taking a deep breath, I nod.

When the Coke arrives, we toast to twenty years of good times and several more to come.

Kate plugs her nose and takes a sip. She coughs and her delicate hand flies to cover her mouth. She grabs desperately for the Coke.

"Jesus Christ," I practically hiss with a disapproving shake of my head. I down my shot, the way it is meant to be done. Jasper, who has taken the seat beside me winks with an amused smirk.

"Wow," Kate chokes out as she lightly pounds on her chest, "that was not very tasty."

Then, she giggles. Like, Snow White giggles. Like, Cinderella giggles. I half expect some birds and mice to come dancing around the table. Who is this girl?

Not me. That's who this girl is. She is not me. And Edward, for the first time in a long time, wants someone who is not me. The tequila sits at the pit of my stomach and begins to grow tentacles that spread through my entire body. I love the warm feeling that engulfs my insides. It makes me brave. It makes me sad. It makes me mean.

"N'other round?" I ask, my finger twirling in a circle.

I don't wait for a yes and make my way to the bar.

I straighten up as I feel a humming through my body. Edward is near. I close my eyes and wait for him to approach me. When I feel his fingers low on my back, I turn to face him.

"Need help?" he asks.

"Hah. You know better than anyone."

Brave. Today I am tequila brave. I watch him as he drops his head.

"Not tonight, Bells. Please?"

He searches into my eyes and lifts his pretty brows.

"Not tonight what? I'm fucking ecstatic for you and your new girl."

I shrug and lightly kick the toe of his shoes with my foot. I hear him sigh.

"All right, thanks." He smiles and points toward the shots. "How 'bout we take one, just you and me?"

I pick up a glass and hold it up.

"To being… "

I search for something to cheers to.

"Fucking ecstatic?" Edward offers. I laugh and tap his glass with my own.

He orders only one replacement shot.

"Kate's good with the one," he explains.

"So, Kate, she's adorable," I say, hoping he doesn't catch the hint of disdain in my voice. Or maybe I do.

"Yeah, she's… she's sweet. Simple."

He says simple, like simple is perfect. Like simple is all it takes.

"Good, good. God, yeah, that's… great. Simple."

I repeat the word, like it will help me process it. Help me swallow it. Maybe… be it a little?

"I'm glad for you, you know? Simple is good; it's really good for you," I continue, not knowing what I am hoping my words will convince him of. That I am okay? That I don't need him? That I don't ache because we aren't together anymore?

He looks at me like he is evaluating me. He wants to believe me.

We take the shots back to the table. He takes his seat next to Kate, and her cheeks are a lovely shade of pink thanks to the tequila. I sit between my anchors, Jasper to my right, Jacob to my left. They will hold me down. They will get me through tonight.

As the night lingers on, I do my best to focus on this Thursday night as though it were any Thursday night. I want stories from my pals. I make myself interested in hearing the dirty on their conquests. I just want to forget about the pretty girl with my pretty guy.

Edward and Kate spend a majority of the night whispering in each other's ear. They giggle and flirt like teenagers.

When I see him nuzzle her neck with his nose, I have to get out of there. I order another shot of tequila, shoot it down, and tell Jake and Jasper that I will be right back.

My back leans against the brick wall. The fresh air is soothing. I close my eyes and will the sadness away.

Humming. He's here.

I open my eyes to see Edward. He stands in front of me, beautiful face wrinkled with concern.

"Too much tequila?" he asks, stepping closer.

I shake my head.

No, silly.

He reaches out his hand, tucks my hair behind my ear, and pulls out my emergency cigarette. Reaching into his pocket, he pulls out a lighter.

"Can we share?" he asks.

I nod and watch the stick between his lips. He inhales and I envy the smoke and how it gets to wade inside of him. He brings the cigarette to my lips, and I pull at it, resisting the urge to lick the tips of his fingers. He watches me as I let the smoke spill out. Lifting the side of his lips, he puts the cigarette back to his mouth. Lucky stick.

"I fucking hate this," I blurt out. Word vomit. I look away as he hangs his head low, the cigarette dangling from his lips. He exhales and squints his eyes to look at me through the curtain of smoke.

"I don't know what to say," he whispers.

Say you forgive me. Say that you know that I can do better and that you're willing to really let me try. Say you love me so fucking much that you could throw away that pretty little thing in there and be with me again.

I don't say any of that. I move closer to him. He doesn't step back. We are so close that he has to take the cigarette out of his mouth to keep it from burning me. I move closer still. He doesn't move away but keeps his eyes down, focused on his feet. I can tell that he knows he should move somewhere, anywhere, because his breathing becomes labored. There is hesitation in his movements.

"Edward," I whisper pleadingly. Desperately.

He meets my eyes.

"Don't." He shakes his head.

I ignore him and stand to my tiptoes. I reach for his neck and pull him down to rest my forehead against his. His eyes close and he shakes his head in protest. But I pull his jaw toward me and gently kiss his lips.

"Stop, Bells," he says, pulling away.

I refuse. Tequila brave. I hold his jaw and pull him in again, my kiss needier than ever.

"Bella," he warns. His resolve is less insistent.

I wrap my arms around his neck and cling him to me, satisfying the ache that had been living in me for months now.

He kisses me back, and his lips pull and push with need.

Then it all stops. He shoves me away, and I fall back against the wall.

"Stop! Fuck!" he yells, frustrated as he runs the back of his hand over his mouth, the other through his hair. "Don't make me that guy. I'm not that guy! I don't fucking cheat on nice girls who want to be with me!"

He throws the burning cigarette on the floor and slams his hands against the wall on either side of me.

"This…" he gestures between himself and me "…this is over. I can't… I can't do it anymore. All the fucking bullshit!"

He backs away as he wipes his palm on his face.

"I can't."

He walks back into the bar. I slide down the wall and grab the cigarette that is nearly out. I put it to my lips, tasting him. Him. I think back to the beginning.


	2. Chapter Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ch 2 beta'd by Klooqy and BelleDean
> 
> Many thanks to Edwardsmerp and Amerymarie for pre-reading :)

I met my boys when we were seven. The four of us would get dropped off at Mrs. Jensen's during the summers. She was like a hundred years old and would babysit us while our parents worked. Mrs. Jensen's salt and pepper hair was always tied up in a tight bun with frizzy strands sticking out around her hairline. She wore clean white shoes like the nurses from the fifties, and stockings with snags running up her legs. We were pretty shitty back then, poor thing. We would hide her dentures and tie the laces to her shoes together so that she couldn't chase us when we raised hell in her home.

I remember that first day well.

Jake and Jasper were already there, saving the "world" with their Ninja Turtle action figures when Charlie, my dad, pulled open the screen door. His black caterpillar mustache wriggled as he chatted up Mrs. Jensen about the specifics of her babysitting services. With an encouraging pat on my head, he sent me to play with Michelangelo and Raphael incarnate.

"You can be April," Jake said, tossing me a naked Barbie. His dark eyes rolled at me, like my presence was such a bother to him, or at least, my gender created a great hitch in his overall plan to destroy the Shredder.

I poked at the plastic body with the toe of my checkered slip-ons. With a scowl, I eyed the slender figure with her permanent tiptoe stance and breasts so large she would tip over as a flesh and blood woman. She didn't even look like the redheaded reporter.

"I don't wanna be April." I shoved the blonde-haired, blue-eyed doll away, like her femininity would rub off on me if she were any closer. I couldn't have that.

"Well, that's the only girl." Jasper shrugged.

"I wanna be Donatello."

"Why? Because he wears purple?" Jake scoffed.

"No. Because he's smart." My chin jutted up, ready for his rebuttal. But he just smacked his lips in distaste and let his eyes curl up toward the ceiling.

"Whatever."

It was well into our third run-in with Be Bop and Rock Steady—Shredder had eluded us twice, and Leonardo was being held captive and near death for the fourth time—when Edward showed up. He walked in, his hand in the warm grasp of his mother. Her long, dark ginger hair was perfectly parted and lightly curled. It complemented Edward's meticulously slicked-back do; the kind that made it look like he had just stepped out of one of the framed photos from Mrs. Jensen's youth. He looked like such a tool in his khakis, and with his plaid shirt buttoned to the neck.

She leaned down to press a kiss on his cheek before turning, leaving a pink splotch beneath his left eye. As her long legs carried her to the door, she waved goodbye to Edward and then disappeared behind it. As soon as the door was shut, Edward ran his hand through his hair, raking his fingers through it to completely undo whatever work had been done to tame it. He unbuttoned his top to the very bottom, and peeled the sides of his over-shirt out to expose his ThunderCats graphic tee in one swift gesture, like Clark Kent as he transformed into Superman.

"What are you guys playing?" he asked, dropping to his knees between Jake and me.

"I'm Raphael, he's Michelangelo, and she's Donatello. Here, you can be Leo." Jake slid the last crime fighting turtle to him.

Edward grabbed for the figure and tested out the mechanics, making sure the arms swung easily, and the legs could bend to create the perfect defensive kicks. When he was certain that he could properly fight evil with it, he turned to me, setting the green figurine in his lap.

"I'm Edward." The left side of his lips pulled up into a crooked grin, and his eyes searched mine for an answer, though he hadn't even asked a question.

I stared blankly back at him. What did he want me to do with that information?

Jake called the game to session, and Edward seamlessly entered the mix. We fought a good fight. But in the end, Shredder made another impossible (not to mention ridiculous) escape.

Mrs. Jensen made us crust-less peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and forced us to sit at the kitchen table as we ate. Tall glasses of milk accompanied each of our meals. We were all so small back then that our legs hung off the end of the chairs, swinging back and forth beneath the table. Mrs. Jensen sat in the other room knitting as she hummed her favorite oldies tune.

"You're not so bad," Jake said, a giant bite of sandwich still being chewed in his mouth. He nodded at me. "If you cut your hair more, you'd look like a boy."

"Jake." Jasper's eyes had rounded with surprise. The space between his brows twitched as he fought between wanting to be polite and doubling over in laughter. His forehead touched base on the tabletop, and his shoulders shook as he giggled, his humor conquering his good sense. "That's mean." He tried to stifle his laughter but failed miserably.

I grabbed at the ends of my freshly cut bob. I had wanted to go shorter, but the hair stylist was afraid that I would, in fact, look like a boy. She told me that this cut would take from my giant front teeth and put a little more emphasis on my pointed chin. She wanted to dye my hair and make it a little darker because, according to her, the milk chocolate color it was did nothing for my complexion. I had rolled my eyes and gave Charlie a strict shake of my head. No way.

"I think you look pretty."

My eyes slowly swept to my right, where Edward sat. He looked like a fool with his upper lip lined with a milk mustache.

Jake and Jasper had frozen in their seats, their eyes alternating from Edward to me, then me to Edward. He just sat there, lips pursed in a tight line, and his wayward hair dangling over his downcast eyes. He ran the back of his hand, which was balled into a tight fist, over his lip to wipe the traces of milk away.

I stared down at my plate wanting to disappear. His compliment had unwittingly translated as an insult because at seven, any reminder that I was a girl was the bane of my existence. Growing up with a single father like Charlie and zero female role models could do that.

I ignored the awkward words that hung in the air like the lingering scent of bad cologne and picked up my sandwich.

"Bet I can finish all of this before any of you," I challenged.

The boys eagerly grabbed for their own sandwiches.

No one won as our jaws tired from the putty that came of the peanut butter and jelly. Our giggles filled the air, and our glasses of milk disappeared as we washed the sticky food down. And just like that, the embarrassing comment was left with the crumbs.

Over the years, Jake got over me being a girl, Jasper continued to let his humor get the best of him, and it would be a very long time before Edward called me pretty again.

When we got older and no longer required adult supervision, we would alternate houses to 'study' at right after school. We would plan to have our study sessions at whomever's house would be free of parental guidance.

We got into a lot of shit during our middle school years. Luckily, we had each other's backs.

When we were in sixth grade, Mike Newton and his crew had decided that they didn't much care for Jasper's sense of humor. They tried to jump him after school. Word got out quickly, and Jasper, Jake, Edward, and I got suspended for two days for fighting. Totally worth it. From that day on, people knew that if you messed with one of us, we would all come swinging.

By the time seventh grade rolled around, we were tighter than ever and as mischievous as could be.

"Try it!" Jake had demanded, waving the black-labeled bottle of Jack Daniel's in my face.

The four of us were sitting on the floor in his room. Jake had swiped the bottle of liquor from the local market on our way home from school.

"Dude. I'm scared!" I said. I had let my hair grow long and had since developed a habit of running my hand through it whenever I became anxious.

I felt Edward nudge my shoulder from his place beside me. His legs, which seemed to lengthen every month, stretched out in front of him, and his arms supported his weight behind him.

"I'll take it with you." He winked.

"We'll all take some." Jasper laughed, delighted that we would all soon be experiencing drunkenness together. The boys had already dabbled in drinking a couple months ago, when I was out due to the flu.

We drank straight from the bottle, too young and free to care about hygiene. I gripped the neck of the bottle in a tight fist and took a quick whiff of the amber liquid. It was pungent and unlike anything I had ever smelt before, not at all like Charlie's beers. I took a quick glance around me and was met with enthusiasm and impatience staring at me through the eyes of the boys surrounding me. I took one swig and nearly choked as the lukewarm liquid traveled down my throat. Edward took the bottle from me and drank from it before passing it along.

I had expected the feeling of being drunk to kick in immediately, and when it didn't, I grabbed the bottle and took another decent gulp. I was always doing shit like that—mostly stupid shit on a whim.

"Whoa!" Edward grabbed the bottle and handed it to Jake who was staring at me wide-eyed and jaw dropped.

"Ohhh, she's gonna feel that in about three, two…" Jasper fell backwards with laughter, and his infectious giggles took Jake down with him.

"Oh man…" Edward shook his head, a giant grin on his lips "…when the room starts spinning, I'm right here."

I looked up at him, feeling a warm sensation in my stomach and a sudden head change.

"Wow," I murmured, the whiskey taking over. "Do you feel like this, too?"

He looked down at me and nodded.

"Probably not as good as you do. I learned my lesson the first time."

"I just don't see how this could go from this…" my hands rubbed in a circle on my stomach "…to a lesson being learned."

Edward smiled, in that crooked way that he had perfected over the years.

"Hey, let's go see what Alice and Rosalie are doing. I heard they were gonna go swimming at Brandon's," Jasper suggested, taking another gulp. He had been curious about Alice Brandon and her best friend Rosalie Hale for a few weeks now.

Jake perked up and grabbed the bottle to take another gulp as well.

"I am definitely into that," he said, wiping his mouth with his sleeve. "I fucking love bikini season!"

"Yeah, gounds sood," I slurred, wobbling as I stood.

"You guys go ahead. I'll stay with Bella," Edward offered. He stood to help me get my footing in order.

"All right, you two…" Jake pointed a finger in a fatherly manner "…behave. That especially means you, Edward." He and Jasper broke into hysterics as they left.

Jake and Jasper were normal boys. They chased after obviously pretty girls and flirted endlessly. I wasn't really a girl to them. I went through several awkward years before I grew into my looks. I had buck teeth and I was lanky, and definitely didn't have a lot going on in the boob area. If I hadn't known Jake and Jasper since before they were interested in girls, I don't think we would all be friends.

Edward was different. And even though he hadn't called me pretty since the first time we met, he treated me that way. I could never be just one of the guys to him. It had always been more, and he showed it through his actions.

"So, how are you feeling?" Edward asked. He offered his hands to help me take a seat on Jake's bed. I didn't take it. I wasn't very good at accepting help.

"Wonderful," I sighed. I plopped down onto the bumpy mattress. "You didn't have to stay, you know."

He quietly took a seat beside me, his arm bumping into my shoulder.

"Why do you do that?" I asked.

"Do what?"

"Stay."

He shrugged his shoulders and lay back on the bed, his hands rubbing through his hair. Of course, I wasn't only referring to this moment. Edward had made a habit of just being there for me. I never could figure out why, because being there for him wasn't something I did very well.

I lay back beside him. He stared straight up at the ceiling, his hands over his head and an expression so peaceful it almost made me sleepy.

It was not that I hadn't noticed how good-looking Edward was becoming. It was just that I hadn't really cared about the perfect blend of mahogany and orange in his hair or the way it was textured into a flaming mess. I hadn't taken a particular interest in the way his jaw line was becoming sharp and more defined each day. And until that moment, I hadn't even given a second thought to how perfectly full his lips were. But the longer I stared, the more interested I became. It was a strange moment, like the light had been flipped on unexpectedly.

"Have you kissed anyone before?" I asked him suddenly.

Edward turned his head to me, a little taken aback, but he recovered quickly.

"I mean, like, my mom." He shrugged. "But I don't think that's what you mean…"

Maybe it was the whiskey or maybe it was simply teenage hormones, or both. Either way, I was ready to test uncharted waters.

"Will you kiss me?" I asked, scooting closer to him.

He was silent for a moment before turning his body to me. We lay on our sides, facing each other, our lips merely inches away. Neither of us was brave enough to make the first move. I closed my eyes and waited. My heartbeat picked up speed as I felt Edward's hand curl around my neck.

I wasn't sure what I expected a kiss to feel like. But when his lips, soft and warm, pressed against mine, my stomach felt like it was doing somersaults; my entire body buzzed from it and even my ears felt ticklish. It was a sweet first kiss—closed-mouth and chaste.

Edward Cullen was my first kiss and I was his. We kissed a lot that day.


	3. Chapter Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So much thanks to BelleDean and torisurfergirl who beta'd this chapter. Edwardsmerp for pre-reading And an uber special thank you to amerymarie for being all around awesome :)

When my cigarette dies out, I get up and head back into the bar. I'm barely three steps through the door, when an arm wraps around my waist, and I'm pulled against a hard chest.

"You are fucking gorgeous." The words are whispered into my ear, and they're just what I need.

He pulls his head back, his arm still holding me against him. He's tatted and hot, but not who I want.

"Thanks." I push my hands against him to get my personal space back. He gets the hint and releases me.

"Let me know if I can buy you a drink, doll." He smirks before licking his lips.

"I'll do that."

Maybe I will, maybe I won't. However, I will keep him in my back pocket just in case things continue to go south with Edward. I throw him a flirtatious smile and refrain from rolling my eyes as I turn away.

I'm not ready to sit down and play nice, so I make a b-line to the bathroom.

Standing in front of a sink, staring at my reflection in the dull mirror, I touch my lips, remembering the feel of his—the lips I know so well. It had been too long since I last kissed Edward, since before he last kissed me.

This is familiar territory, this…game… I guess you could call it a game. We play it often, and I always win. Tonight he is putting up a fight. He wants me to believe it's over.

It can't be over.

A thickness builds in my throat, and I swallow it down. No tears, please. The thickness builds again, and I spit into the sink and lock my jaw to keep my tears from escaping.

Pull it together,Bella.

But that last shot is really beginning to own me, and I begin to feel…what is it? Mad? Sad?

One of the red doors to the stalls behind me flings open, and I stare at the pretty girl through the reflection in the mirror. My heart squeezes with jealousy because she is beautiful and so very different from me. She's a blonde; I'm a brunette. She's curvy; I'm curve-less. She's got full lips; I don't. And, let's not forget, she's simple; I'm not.

"Oh, Bella! Goodness, I think I just puked up my dinner." She laughs as she takes the sink next to me and begins to wash her hands. She takes water into her mouth and gargles. Gross. What a wimp.

Bad timing, princess.

I squeeze the rim of the porcelain sink as I scrutinize her.

Who wears a little straplesss undress to a freaking dive bar? And, uh, a clutch? A bow-shaped clutch? Really, Edward?

She shakes her hands, trying to discard the excess water.

"Bella, I'm glad I caught you here. I have been dying to meet you for a while now." She's got such a bounce to her voice, and I hate her for it. Doesn't she know that I'm dying over here?

"Is that right?" I answer sweetly. Folding my arms together, I rest my hip against the sink.

She nods, stepping closer to me.

"Edward, he just adores you."

My heart stops, and I'm flooded with a plethora of emotions that I can't even begin to sort through. He adores me.

She continues, "I know how much you mean to him, and I just… I really want to be friends."

I lift a brow.

Did he tell you I know what he looks like naked? Did he tell you that I know exactly how he likes his blowjobs?

I bite my bottom lip, mostly to keep myself from saying anything.

"I know you're like a sister to him, and, well… I would like to hang out with you sometime and get to know you better." She smiles at me, and she's all sunbeams and blue skies. Oblivious.

"Hah!" I can't help the laugh that escapes me. "Yeah, uh, we are like sister and brother." I cross my index and middle finger to show how close we are.

He hasn't told her about us. He hasn't told her about the formative years of his life. At least, if he has, he left out some pretty damning details and basically censored the shit out it. If she knew, she'd probably forbid him to be anywhere near me.

I smile, because him not telling her? This bodes well for me.

I wrap my arm around her bare shoulders and lead her back to the table, mostly because I feel sorry for the poor thing. She doesn't stand a chance.

I notice Edward tense as we approach, his brows pull together, and he eyes my arm around his girl.

The shot is really kicking in, and I'm feeling feisty. I release Kate and take her seat beside Edward. My limbs feel loose and, more so, my mouth.

Jasper and Jake can tell something is up. They elbow each other and wait.

"So, Edward…" I rest my arm around him "…Kate tells me that you have been talking about me. Or, I guess I should say, us."

He shifts uncomfortably. I feel his hand on my thigh, under the table. He squeezes, asking me not to spoil the evening. That angers me. And I'd be lying if I said it didn't thrill me as well.

"Kate, I'm sure Edward has told you a ton of stories about our little group here and all the mischief we got ourselves into." I place my hand on his thigh, challenging him, daring him to play with me.

"Actually, Edward hasn't really told me any stories about growing up. I think it's fantastic that you all have such a close knit relationship," Kate, who's still standing, gushes before giving up hope of reclaiming her seat and making due with the chair next to Jake.

"Oh, we've got stories, don't we, Edward?" I ask, as I massage my hand upwards. "You should definitely tell her about high school graduation." My words are doused in insinuation. Game on.

Edward stiffens and releases his hold. I smirk in victory.

I see Jake and Jasper exchange looks and hope they don't plan on intervening. But if I know Jake…

"High school graduation? Oh man, that's hardly 'Thursday night-story' worthy. Besides, we don't want to spend the rest of our evening talking about tired shit that doesn't exist anymore, am I right?" Jake looks at me pointedly. "Kate, walk with me. Talk with me."

He's giving Edward an opportunity to get out of this.

I roll my eyes, and out of habit, I rest my head against Edward. He doesn't push me away and I look straight at Kate; she looks uncomfortable, and I like that. She continues to stare at the interaction between her man and me. I scoot closer to Edward, pressing myself to him. He doesn't move. I knew he wouldn't. I know him well.

Kate stands, and I can tell she doesn't want to leave us alone, that she is beginning to dislike me.

"Bella, come on," Edward whispers when Kate is out of earshot.

Jasper, understanding that he is an extra letter in an A-B conversation, stands and points to an imaginary person, does a ridiculous exchange of hand gestures, and leaves us alone.

"She's not right for you," I say as I turn to face Edward. "You know she isn't the one for you."

He sighs, annoyed and frustrated. And, I want to believe it's because he knows I'm right.

"She could be right for me. She's nice, and you know what? She wants me."

"Lots of girls want you, Edward."

"Well I want her, too."

"Do you?"

"Yes."

"Do you want her most of all?" My lips brush against his earlobe, and I nuzzle my nose against his jaw—rough with stubble. I feel the way his breath leaves him in a longing sigh. He turns to face me, and we're so close that if either of us moves just a little, our lips will meet.

"Yes," he answers, his jaw tightening.

He's a liar. Now I'm annoyed and frustrated. I stand, keeping my eyes locked on him.

"I hope you're sure about that," I say.

He nods, almost imperceptibly.

And I'm more determined than ever as I head toward the bar and straight to the tatted ace up my sleeve.


End file.
